


What's a Meal Between Friends?

by fritzfics



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bones being grumpy, Jim being Jim, M/M, Post-Star Trek (2009), Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Star Trek (2009) Spoilers, Star Trek: Into Darkness Spoilers, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-23 19:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7477554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fritzfics/pseuds/fritzfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s an importance with coming together for meals.  Many things have been said about it.  Some say sharing meals can make you a better person.   Others say that sharing food can be the most intimate act people can perform with their clothes on.  </p><p>For Jim, meals were significant times of connection with Bones, turning points in their lives.  Together, they were the chronicle of how Bones went from a stranger, to the most important person in Jim’s life, to the one he wanted to spend the rest of his days with.  </p><p>This is a 5 + 1 Story.  In this case, Jim and Bones have 5 dinners + 1 breakfast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?”  (First Dinner)

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I'd like to thank my wonderful beta, Caitri. She is brilliant, encouraging, and patient with all my mistakes. Thank you for your guidance and suggestions. That being said, I've tinkered with this, so any mistakes are my own.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This wonderful universe is own by Paramount, Gene Roddenberry, JJ Abrams and a host of others. I make no money off this. I am truly only here to play.

_Author’s Note: This occurs on the evening of Jim’s first day of classes at the Academy._

Pike was right. 

Jim looked around the crowded cafeteria as he waited in the slow-moving line. All it had taken was a day of classes, and he knew that _this_ was where he was meant to be. Starfleet Academy was an extraordinary place.

Too bad that didn’t extend to the food. 

Jim cringed as he looked over the sad prospects available to him down the serving line. Maybe it was a way to weed out those who thought they had to get a decent meal. Space exploration didn’t necessarily mean that you would have three square meals a day. 

“Fuckin’ first years.” The burly cadet in front of him let out an additional unintelligible grumble. 

Jim shifted and peered around the mountain obscuring his view to the pod of cadets at the start of the long, stationary line of red uniforms. It looked like a couple of them were having difficulty deciding on whether to get the fish or the vegetarian lasagna. 

Jim didn’t blame them. It was a choice between slimy or chunky. 

“Hey!” the mountain called out. “Fuckin’ choose something and _move on_!”

“Chill out, man.” Jim continued cheerfully. “See? They’re already moving.” He smiled nicely at the upperclassman who had swung around to glare at him, giving Jim the opportunity to turn on the charm. 

By the time Jim had his food, he had plans to meet Clinton, the third-year security cadet – AKA Mountain – tomorrow to work on his hand-to-hand combat skills. 

Jim made the turn to the dining room, nodding as they parted, and watched Clinton make his way through the sea of red before them. Most of the four, eight and ten-place tables were full, and the air buzzed with the cacophony of excited, first-day-of-class conversations. 

Where to sit? Jim surveyed his prospects. There were a lot of mighty fine looking men and women here. 

The tables by the large expanse of windows were occupied by who were clearly the third and fourth-year cadets, making sure they had the best seats in the house. A particularly lovely table of four, sitting in the corner, caught his eye. 

_Hello, ladies_. What better way to introduce himself informally to the upperclassmen. He moved in their direction.

“Kirk!”

The call rang out over the general buzz, pulling his attention to the middle of the room. It was a cadet he had met at orientation, who was indicating an open seat across from him. 

He weighed his options. Pulling up a chair to sit with the lovely cadets by the window – shades of his adventure with Uhura drifted through his mind. Or sitting with a friendly face in what was clearly the small, first-year section. His eyes drifted further down the room. But then again …

A figure was tucked into the far corner with his back to the wall, making sure he could repel any sneak attacks. Alone, at a table for four in the crowded room. Even over here, Jim could see the little Eeyore cloud of doom hanging over the guy’s head. He hunched over his plate, eating what looked like the fish entrée and a rubbery pile of what Jim hoped was broccoli. 

Jim watched as a young, new recruit approached the empty seats at the table. All it took was a piercing glare from those crazy eyes, and the poor cadet skittered away. It would obviously take a braver soul than that to invade the deadly space. 

Jim nodded at the cadet from orientation, indicating where he was going to sit, as he moved across the room. He smiled at familiar faces and winked at several of the female cadets that threw him appreciative glances. 

Plopping his tray down on the table, Jim barely asked before he sat down, “Is this seat taken?”

Leonard “All I Have Left is My Bones” McCoy looked up, his scowl set at maximum, before muttering, “Oh, it’s _you_.”

Anyone without a confident constitution would probably have burst into tears. Luckily, Jim wasn’t that kind of guy.

Jim grabbed his fork and stabbed it into the chunky mound on his tray. “Geez, McCoy, did you lose your tail or something in the Hundred Acre Woods? That little cloud up there is gonna start raining on you soon.” He used the eating utensil to point above McCoy’s head before stuffing the food into his mouth. 

Ugh. Bland. 

McCoy glared as Jim grabbed the salt shaker from the table and applied it liberally over the lasagna. Realization dawned on McCoy’s scowling face, and he rolled his eyes at Jim. 

“Funny. Ha-ha.”

“Ah, you’re familiar with A.A. Milne, then,” Jim said before scooping up another sizeable bite of food. “For a moment I thought I’d have to explain the classic to you, Bones.” 

He couldn’t help the satisfied smile he gave his new friend at discovering the perfect nickname for him.

The glare came back full force. “Of course I know who he is. I told you on the shuttle I had a kid,” Bones growled. “And who the hell is ‘Bones’?”

Jim used his fork to point at his lunch companion again before spearing another bite with it. “You are. Leonard is too stuffy a name, and bones, doctor, sawbones…” He stuffed the forkful into his mouth and let Bones put together the connections.

He earned another eye roll, which seemed to be “standard Bones” if he read his new friend correctly. 

“Oh, for pete’s sake,” Bones muttered before stabbing a rubbery, almost gelatinous blob masquerading as a broccoli spear. He flipped his own fork at Jim, who was distracted by the green thing flopping up and down. “You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you? I have a horrible feelin’ I’m never gonna get rid of you.”

“Well, you know what they say, Bones. If you name something, it’s yours.” Jim watched as Bones’s eyebrow reached a new height.

“Oh, good Lord,” Bones groaned. Wait for it. Yep, there it was: another eye roll. “Don’t be such an infant.”

Jim just laughed. Yep, this friendship was going to be _epic_.


	2. It's My Party and I'll Grump if I Want To  (Second Dinner)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Summary** :If it had been up to Jim, they’d be having a burger and a beer at Jim’s favorite bar. But no. Bones’s birthday, Bones’s choice of restaurant. Jim got that. But did that have to mean he had to wear a damn tie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'd like to thank my wonderful beta, Caitri. She is brilliant, encouraging, and patient with all my mistakes, even those I keep repeating. Thank you for your guidance and suggestions. That being said, I've tinkered with this, so any mistakes are my own.
> 
>    
>  _This dinner occurs during their second year at the Academy._

“You know,” Jim said, glaring at the open collar on his friend’s shirt, “when you tell someone that they have to wear a jacket _and_ a tie, it’s only polite to wear one yourself.” 

“Who said anything about having to wear a tie?” Bones’s innocent look sucked.

Jim pointed an accusing finger. “You did. “

“Ah, that’s not what I said.” Bones speared another appetizer off the plate that sat between them. He ate it as he looked around the restaurant, his lips trying hard not to curl up with the smirk Jim just knew was waiting in the wings. 

“I asked you _specifically_ what the dress code for this place would be.” Jim squirmed, trying to get his collar to shift under the tourniquet–like feel of his tie. What he wouldn’t give to yank the damn thing off, but he was uncomfortable enough in the sophisticated atmosphere without drawing attention to himself.

“And what did I say?” 

Jim gave in and surreptitiously ran a finger under his collar. “That ‘men wear jackets and ties.’” He gave his friend a pointed look.

“Precisely.” Bingo. There was the smirk. 

Jim quickly replayed their previous conversation in his head. Shit. The conniving asshole hadn’t said they were mandatory. Bones had played him well. 

Before he could say anything, Bones pointed his fork at Jim. “It won’t hurt ya to wear a nice jacket and tie for once. That stupid leather thing of yours is gonna start growing to your shoulders soon. And precisely how many damn white t-shirts do you own?”

“Are you saying I need a new look, Bones? When did you become my fashion consultant?” Jim asked. He watched a small blush break out over Bones’ cheeks, and he smiled. “Besides, you can never have too many white t-shirts.”

Bones harrumphed. “There’s nothin’ wrong with dressin’ up a bit, Jim. You’re gonna have to get used to wining and dining with different dignitaries in a couple of years when you’re a first officer of some ship _and_ for sure when you’re captain of your own.” 

Jim couldn’t help the little warm glow that ignited inside of him whenever Bones casually mentioned his confidence in Jim’s plans. There were times he almost believed Bones would do anything to make sure that Jim attained his goal. 

“So, you’re saying this was all for me?” He used his hand to make a small circle to encompass their surroundings.

Bones grabbed another appetizer. “No, this was for me. I wanted to eat something I actually recognized for once. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to practice formal dining etiquette.” 

Bones had a point. This wasn’t the normal place Jim would have eaten. The softly lit, quiet atmosphere of the restaurant was a far cry from the loud and sometimes raucous mood of the Mess Hall or any of the bars they frequented. Give him a bar and a burger, and Jim was a happy man. 

Here, the discretely-placed tables had china, stemware and tablecloths, things Jim hadn’t seen since his childhood days of Christmas celebrations at his grandparents. It made him feel self-conscious about all those table manners he seemed to have lost along the way. No elbows. Which fork. None of it came naturally for him. 

Jim discretely wiped his sweaty palms off on the overlap of the tablecloth. Maybe he could use the practice. 

But Bones was a different breed of cat. Jim stole an appreciative glance, taking in the perfect cut of the suit across his friend’s shoulders. He looked like he was born to wear it, sitting at a table without a question in his mind as to what fork to use. 

When Jim had suggested taking the guy out for his birthday, one of the things Bones had stipulated – okay, demanded – was “no damn bar food.” This was where Bones wanted to eat, so this is where they would eat, a popular restaurant somewhat close to the Academy. 

And Jim had to grudgingly agree with the choice. If the appetizers were anything to go by, the food here would be a yummy experience that he’d enjoy. He used his fork to stab another deep-fried vegetable thing from the plate between them and stuck it in his mouth, savoring the flavors. Damn, this was so much better than the Mess Hall. 

A disturbance to their right pulled Jim’s attention from his food to a softly lit table two over from them. They both watched as a dark-haired man got down on one knee by his dinner companion and pulled out a small black box, holding it out to the teary-eyed woman, who was visibly shaking. The sounds of the dining area dimmed as everyone turned their eyes to that table in the center of the room. 

Smiling, Jim picked up his glass and took a sip of his wine as he watched the blonde-haired woman nod her head off, tears falling down her cheeks, as she stuck out her finger. The engaged couple hugged after the ring settled into place, and then the man gave his fiancé a soft kiss. Putting down his glass, Jim joined the quiet applause that filled the area, as the other patrons congratulated the happy couple. A disgusted snort punctuated the soft, rolling sound. 

“And that’s how it all starts,” Bones grumbled before he grabbed the glass of wine before him and finished it off, his good mood from before, gone. 

The couple had returned to their seats, and the rest of the diners went back to their food and their quiet conversations. 

“I don’t know. They look happy,” Jim pointed out, watching as the maître d' discretely waved over the violin player to provide some musical ambience for the happy occasion. 

Okay, that was kind of cheesy. Even though Jim had defended them, it’s not like he’d personally want to be in that guy’s position right now. Way too many possibilities out there to limit oneself to only one. 

“Of course they’re happy. Right now. But it’s all full of shit.” Bones impatiently waved their waiter over. “Get me a glass of bourbon.” 

The quiet clinking of silverware against china and the subdued murmur of conversation around their table noticeably waned. 

Blushing slightly, Jim motioned with his hand. “Shh.” 

Bones’s voice had definitely carried, and Jim smiled his apology to an elderly, married couple to their right. The man shot Bones a look, his shaggy white eyebrows almost beating Bones’s killer frown in a contest. His wife seemed more understanding. She smiled sympathetically at Jim, before patting her husband on the hand and engaging him back into their conversation. He watched as she rubbed his wrinkled hand tenderly. 

Jim felt the need to point out, “ _Some_ people like romance.”

“It’s romance that’s a bunch of shit.” Bones nodded his thanks at the waiter when he set the glass of bourbon down in front of him. Great. The waiter had clearly heard what Bones had said. Now it looked like Jim was going to have to leave a bigger tip. 

Picking up his glass, Bones used it to indicate to Jim. “It’s all that romance at the beginning of a relationship that dooms it to die.” At least Bones was talking so that only Jim could hear him.

This conversation was becoming way deeper than Jim had anticipated. He grabbed his wine glass to have something to do with his hand. “I don’t know,” he said noncommittally before taking a needed drink of the alcohol. 

And he didn’t know. What kind of knowledge did he have about relationships? The only long-term one he had outside of his family was his friendship with Bones. 

Bones was in full rant mode, albeit softer now. “Romance at the beginning like that –“ He used his glass to motion over to the happy couple who were oblivious to everyone but themselves. “– Just hides the flaws that wreck a marriage. Marriage isn’t about nice dinnerware, soft music, candlelight and flowers. All that just sets it up to fail, ‘cause then one of the fools expects romance throughout the whole damn marriage.” Bones took a long drink from his glass, scowling at some evil demon of a memory inside his head. 

That’s all he needed, Bones getting mad, resulting in him getting good and drunk. This was supposed to be a birthday celebration for his friend. Not some horrible trip down memory lane with that evil witch of an ex-wife of his, chasing him. 

Trying to distract him, Jim pointed to the remaining food on the appetizer plate. “You might wanna start eating some more, Bones, or I’m gonna finish those up.” 

Giving Jim a quick glare, Bones set down his glass and stabbed a couple of appetizers with his fork, undeterred by the interruption. “Marriage is about ordinary things, Jim. Like trying to pay the bills. Figuring out who has to cook the meal and who has to do the clean-up. Whose turn it is to take care of the kids.” 

Bones stuffed one of the green tomato thingies in his mouth and chewed like he could mash all his thoughts about the horrible institution into a fine powder. 

Jim let that comment settle for a few moments. “I don’t know, Bones,” Jim said. “Seems to me that marriage could get pretty boring with just that. Maybe romance is the way that some people spice things up.” 

He turned to look back at the happy elderly couple, who reminded him of his grandparents. The man was laughing at something the woman had said, and she smiled lovingly back at him. A dismissive sound made him turn back to Bones.

Bones rolled his eyes. “Yeah, spice.”

Before either one of them could say any more, the waiter came over to remove their empty plates. Jim used the distraction to change the conversation to anything and everything. Even stories from his hand-to-hand class, knowing that Bones would start bitching at him for the various injuries Bones had to treat over the semester. Jim naively thought the matter had been dropped. 

Later, after they finished their entrées, he was caught off-guard when Bones started to pontificate again. “You know, if a person wants to really propose at a meal, then they should do it at breakfast, at home, and not at a stupid restaurant.” Bones thought for a bit. “When people are tired and not looking forward to startin’ their day. That’s when they ain’t puttin’ on no damn pretense. If they can say yes to the person when they are sittin’ across the breakfast table before they even have a damn cup of coffee, then that would be more realistic. At least then the marriage wouldn’t be doomed to fail because a person would know what they should expect.” 

Jim snorted at the thought. He bet the number of marriages would drop substantially if Bones’s recommendation were instituted. Jim watched as the happy, engaged couple wove their way through the tables, smiling their thanks to the numerous wishes of congratulations they were receiving. 

“Good. They’re leaving,” Bones muttered. 

Jim sighed. At least he said that part quietly enough. 

“If I’d have known we’d have to endure _that_ entertainment, I would’ve just gone to the damn bar with you,” Bones grumbled. He moved back as their waiter cleared his empty plate away. Jim imitated him when the waiter got to his side. Bones had been subtly showing Jim what to do throughout the meal. There hadn’t even been a fork mishap once during it all. 

“What a spectacle. What some people won’t do for attention.” Bones waved with his glass before draining his drink.

Oh boy. Jim cleared his throat uncomfortably as he watched another waiter make his way through the tables with the “special dessert” he had ordered for his best friend. Heads turned and followed the young man’s path to their table. Even on his good days, Bones was allergic to attention. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea. 

Too late now. The waiter was right behind Bones. 

“Umm, speaking of spectacles…” Jim let his voice drift off as he motioned with his glance to direct Bones to look over his shoulder.

Bones whipped his head back to glare at his friend. “Damn it, Jim!” he barked. 

Jim shrugged his shoulders and smiled sheepishly. “Happy birthday?” 

He watched his friend glower at the lighted piece of birthday cake placed in front of him. His whole face and even the part of his neck that showed through the open collar of his shirt turned red as the new waiter started to serenade Bones with the Happy Birthday song. Some of the patrons around them joined in. At the end of the song, the waiter instructed Bones to make a wish and blow out the candle as once again, the sound of clapping filled the restaurant. 

Bones gave Jim a hard look before he grudgingly followed directions. Jim could just about imagine what Bones had wished for. Probably a couple dozen dull hypos or something. Another small applause broke out around them. 

Hey, what did the man expect? He _had_ tricked Jim into wearing a tie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is complete. I plan to post a chapter every 1-2 days, depending on my schedule.


	3. "Breaking Bread Together"  (Third Dinner)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every able-bodied crewman was working hard to get the repairs done on the ship, Jim included. But he took time out to check in with Bones, see how Pike was doing and have something to eat. Too bad they couldn’t keep things from getting personal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks need to go out to Caitri, who spent extra time on this chapter for me. Thank you for your suggestions and directions. It definitely made things better. I appreciate your insight and _patience_. And like always, I have tinkered with this, so all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> This dinner occurs in their third year, right after _Star Trek_. The _Narada_ has been destroyed before going back through the wormhole, and the _Enterprise_ crew is working on repairs so that they can return to Earth. Things have happened between the two of them, things on the Bridge that need to be talked about, even if Jim doesn't want to.

Spock stood patiently, his hands behind him, as Jim read through the summary of the preliminary, departmental reports. Organized and efficient. Just like their Spock.

“Wow, Spock. You even cross-reference and linked to the full reports.” Jim gave the Vulcan an appreciative smile as he motioned with the PADD in his hand. “Thanks for doing all that and for bringing it down to me.” 

“I would be remiss in my duties had I not provided you with the relevant data. As for bringing it to you, you are a certified engineer, and you yourself had ordered all qualified crewmembers to help with the repairs to the ship. You were needed elsewhere.” Spock tilted his head at the Jefferies tube nearby. “It was logical to bring the report down to you rather than expecting you to return to the Bridge.”

The sound of Scotty murmuring soothingly to his “lady” echoed out of the tube. He and Jim were working on replacing the damaged conduits throughout the deck. Jim sighed. Even with every able crewman working around the clock, it would be another two days before _all_ critical repairs were made to the power relay system. It would be even longer before a starship was available to tow them back to Space Dock for repairs. At least Spock’s report showed that some things weren’t as bad as Jim had feared. 

“Your orders, Captain?” Spock’s words pulled Jim’s attention back. 

Rubbing his fingers and thumb over his eyebrows, Jim gathered his thoughts. “Make sure we concentrate on the repairs to the ship’s hull and engineering sections and other critical systems first. Ask the department heads to prioritize any other repairs after that. I expect another report from them in 12 hours, detailing the progress they’ve made in their areas.” He handed the PADD back to Spock. “When that ship comes to get us, I’d like it if we were just limping rather than dragging our butts.”

Spock’s eyebrow rose at the crass expression, but he didn’t comment other than to acknowledge, “Yes, Captain.” 

Rather than returning to the Bridge, Spock remained where he was. Something was bugging the Vulcan, and Jim didn’t think it had anything to do with his previous use of a human idiom. Spock had that special “someone has done something that annoyed me” look. Jim was quite familiar with that one. 

“Was there something else, Spock?” Jim asked calmly.

“All departments, except for one, submitted their reports by the ordered time.”

Jim rubbed his tired head again. He had totally missed that when he read Spock’s report. He waited for Spock to elaborate. When several moments passed, Jim prompted, “And…?”

“We have yet to receive a full report from Medical.” If Jim didn’t know any better, Spock looked as if Bones’s omission was causing him physical pain – in that subtle Vulcan way. 

“Is Bones out of surgery with Captain Pike yet?” Jim asked. Last time he had checked, Bones was still operating on Jim’s mentor. 

“Dr. McCoy finished his surgery on Captain Pike 2.75 hours ago, leaving ample time for, at the very least, a brief report.” 

“Well, Bones is an old worry wart. If I know him, he’s probably hovering over Pike right now and any other crewmember still in Medbay.” Jim’s revelation about his friend didn’t seem to assuage the First Officer. “Have you tried calling him and requesting it?”

Spock seemed to draw himself up even straighter. “I was told by the good doctor that I could ‘hold my damn horses.’” Spock’s eyebrow rose to new heights. “The doctor seems particularly fond of equestrian colloquialisms. Do you wish for me to contact him again and remind him of the oversight?”

Jim stifled his smile. It hadn’t taken the two of them long to butt heads. God, it would be tempting to listen in on _that_ conversation to see who’d come out the victor. But he was Acting Captain now, and he need to ensure this possible conflict between the two of them didn’t affect the functioning of the ship. 

“Don’t worry about it, Spock.” He held up his hand, staunching what he knew would be Spock’s renewed complaint about the report. “I’ll go talk with Dr. McCoy. If he’s too busy to compile his report, he might be able to give it to me verbally. Besides, I wanna see how Captain Pike is doing.” 

That seemed to do the trick. Spock dipped his head. “Very well, Captain.” 

Jim nodded his dismissal, and the Vulcan made a sharp turn and proceeded down the corridor to the turbolift. Jim watched the doors closed behind him. 

He poked his head back into the Jefferies tube behind him. “Scotty! I’ll be back later. I have to go to Medbay for a while.”

“Aye, Capt’n.” 

Jim pulled back and groaned. Even that little motion made the muscles across his shoulder tighten. He lifted his chin as he rotated his shoulders back, and a bite of pain grabbed his chest. His hand pressed down on the area as he waited it to subside. Crawling through Jefferies tubes for the better part of the day maybe hadn’t been the best thing for his injuries, but he didn’t have the time to sit around waiting for them to heal. They had at least another full day before most of the conduits were repaired. 

He pulled out his communicator. “Kirk to McCoy.”

He waited a few moments for an answer. “McCoy here. What can I do for you, Jim?” Bones sounded as tired as Jim felt.

“Do you have time for a little company?” 

McCoy’s voice brightened slightly. “Yeah. We seem to have things settled down now. At least until the next group of engineers come flocking in.” 

“I’ll be there in a bit. Kirk out.” Jim snapped his communicator shut and made his way to the turbolift. 

When the doors to the secondary Medbay opened, Jim was greeted by the sight of a tightly run department. Busy medical personnel went back and forth between the occupied biobeds, their movements precise and proficient. Crewmembers seated on the beds looked like their injuries were being efficiently cared for. Jim would expect nothing less from a department run by Leonard McCoy. 

Bones came out of an office on the far side of the room. “Jim.” He waved his hand. “Over here.” 

Stopping on the way, Jim talked briefly with the various nurses and doctors, encouraging them and their patients, reassuring them as to when they would make it back to Earth. Bones was leaning against his office door with his arms crossed when Jim reached his side. 

Bones motioned with his head. “C’mon in.”

Taking the chair in front of what had been Dr. Puri’s desk, Jim couldn’t help the relieved breath that came out as he relaxed against the back. He closed his eyes. Damn, it felt good to sit down. 

A familiar whirling sound circled his head, and he looked up with a sigh. Frowning, Bones continued to scan down Jim’s neck and chest, closely monitoring the data being gathered on the tricorder in his other hand. 

“Well, it looks like you’re healing. The damage to the cartilage around your ribs is still there but it’s minimal. How do they feel?” His hazel eyes bore into Jim’s. 

Jim debated whether to lie to Bones or just tell the truth. Considering the look he was getting, he went with the safer bet. 

“It’s still a little sore…” Bones’s eyebrow went up at that understatement. “But nothing I can’t handle,” Jim said as he sat up in the chair, ignoring the twinge that movement made. “I’m here for your report. If you haven’t gotten it done yet, you can give it to me verbally.”

Bones finished up his scan of Jim and put down his instruments. He dug into a cabinet behind him, taking out a bottle of pills, shaking two into his hand. 

“Here, take these. It should help with the discomfort.” Bones poured a glass of water from the carafe on his desk and handed both the glass and the bottle of pills to Jim. “And take those every six hours for the next couple of days. I mean it, Jim. I don’t want to hear how you don’t like taking pills. Those will help with the healing and pain. If I find out that you’re not takin’ them, I will hunt you down and hypo you.” 

Scowling, Jim downed the pills and drained the glass of water. He placed it back on the edge of Bones’s desk before tucking the bottle into his pocket. 

Seemingly satisfied that Jim would follow medical instructions, Bones grabbed one of the PADDs on his desk and handed it over to Jim. “I just finished my report. I take it Spock was having a conniption fit.” 

“Well, you did make him look like that stick up his ass was a little longer.” A pleased laugh escaped Bones’s lips as Jim activated the PADD. Jim read over the report, paying particular attention to the information about Pike. 

“How’s Pike?” He asked, looking up at his friend. 

A small understanding smile softened Bones’ face. “He’s resting right now in one of the curtained-off alcoves. I’ve got a nurse with him at all times.” He paused as he considered, knowing the real meaning behind Jim’s question. “I’m hopeful, Jim. I won’t kid ya. The damage was extensive, and he’ll have to have a number of corrective surgeries down the road. Most likely, he’ll have to spend some time in a wheelchair and have a couple of months of rehab, but it could’ve been worse. Much worse.”

Jim pressed the buttons on the PADD, sending the report to Spock, before he spoke. “It would’ve been worse if he hadn’t had you as his doctor.” Getting up, Jim closed the distance between them. “Thanks for taking care of him, Bones,” he said, clapping his hand down on Bones’s shoulder as he turned to leave. 

Bones grabbed Jim’s wrist and held him in place. “When was the last time you ate, Jim? And don’t lie to me. I saw your blood sugar. Park your ass right back in that chair.” 

When Jim didn’t move, Bones pointed again to the chair before giving Jim a little push. He walked over to the comm. “Christine, can you get someone to bring two trays in here for the Captain and me? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Whatever they have down in the Galley. Oh, and some coffee.” 

“Sure thing, Doctor.” 

Jim sat back down in the chair and relaxed. Coffee was a good sign. Bones wouldn’t have asked for it if he was going to order Jim to rest. Bones took his seat behind his desk and picked up one of the hyposprays lying on it. Shit. Maybe he was wrong. 

Over and over, the hypospray rotated in Bones’s hands, each end touching the desk every half turn. Bones stared at it, unseeingly, lost in his own thoughts. 

Jim frowned. What the hell? 

Bones wasn’t a fidgety person. When others were losing their shit, Bones’s hands were always steady and calm. He never needed to keep them busy. Jim watched his shoulders slump, the confidence that Bones wore like a second skin slipping off from him. 

“Bones?” 

Bones looked up, their eyes finally connecting, and Jim could see pain and regret filling the hazel eyes. “Jim. About what happened before … on the bridge with Spock …” Bones fumbled.

Shit.

When he had gotten safely back to the ship with Scotty in tow, Bones had jumped right into helping devise the plan to take down Nero with no hard feelings voiced. Jim had assumed that issue was done. That they would push it behind them and just forget what happened. Like any other male on planet Earth would do. 

Bones obviously skipped that page in the secret male handbook. 

Jim tried to forestall him, shaking his head. “Bones.”

“Jim, I’m sorry that I didn’t back you up. When Spock nerve-pinched you and then ordered those security guards to get you off the ship…” Bones sighed, shaking his head in disgust. 

“It’s okay,” Jim said.

“No, it’s not, Jim,” Bones said forcefully. “For all we knew, you could have died down there on that godforsaken planet.” Jim was tired, and for a brief second, he couldn’t control his expression. Bones’s face fell. “Oh my god, you almost did, didn’t you?” 

“Bones.” Jim tried again, using his hand to wave it off.

“No, don’t you just brush this under the table, Jim. You almost died because I was some goddamn chicken-shit and didn’t stand up for you!”

“And what?” Jim shot back. “What would’ve you done? Yelled at him, too?” Jim snorted sarcastically. “Yeah, that would have worked. All that would have gotten us was an escape pod built for two, and you’d have been stranded right along with me, both of us running for our lives from that fake red dinosaur!” 

Oh god. That possibility hadn’t crossed his mind. He had barely gotten away from that creature, and he was a better runner than Bones, especially over a frozen surface like that. If Bones had been down there with him, he wouldn’t have been able to protect him. Bones would’ve…

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, blocking out that picture from his mind, before looking back at his friend. The blood had drained from Bones’s face, and he stared blankly at Jim, his eyes wide with shock. 

“You had to run from something that looked like a ‘fake red dinosaur’? That planet was supposed to be uninhabited,” Bones said with a quiet voice. “An herbivore?” The look on his face said he knew what the answer would be. 

Jim was losing control of the conversation. He needed to lighten it up. “C’mom, Bones. The surface of Delta Vega is frozen. No herbivores are gonna populate it,” Jim teased.

“Damn it, Jim. Stop joking. What was it?” Bones barked. 

“It’s called a _hengrauggi._ ” Bones frowned and shook his head in confusion. Jim toyed with the idea of downplaying it, but he knew Bones would just look it up. “Okay. Think T-rex with six legs, a mouth like a lamprey and a really long and ugly double tongue.” 

“My god, Jim!” Closing his eyes, Bones flopped back in his chair.

Jim got up and walked swiftly around Bones’s desk. Sitting on the edge of it, he leaned forward and touched his friend on his arm. 

“Bones. Listen to me,” Jim commanded softly as he gave the arm under his hand a friendly shake. Once Bones opened his eyes, and Jim had his friend’s full attention, he continued, “I’m fine. I didn’t get hurt. Someone was there and he fended off the _hengrauggi_ for me. And it all turned out for the best. If Spock hadn’t thrown me off the ship, I’d never have met up with Scotty. We wouldn’t have defeated Nero without him.” 

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that I didn’t back you.”

No, it didn’t, but Jim did _not_ want to get into that right now. This was bad enough. 

Jim let go of Bones’s arm and settled back on the surface of the desk, his hands gripping the edge as he watched his friend continue to struggle. He sighed. Bones always felt he had to carry the responsibility of everyone’s welfare on his broad shoulders. It’s what made him the great doctor, but Jim couldn’t let him keep blaming himself. 

Maybe it was time to take a different track. 

“I have to tell you something, and you can’t tell anyone else. Okay? If I have to make that an order, I will,” Jim said. 

Bones frowned, clearly surprised by the seriousness in Jim’s voice. “Alright. This will be just between you and me. What is it?”

Jim took a deep breath, hoping that what he was about to reveal wouldn’t disrupt the space-time continuum any more than it had been. “The person that fought off the _hengrauggi_ for me was Ambassador Spock.” He waited for that to sink in. 

Confusion was written all over Bones’s face. “ _Ambassador_ Spock? Who the hell is Ambassador Spock?”

Jim leaned forward, lowering his voice so no one else could hear. “He came from the same alternate reality that Nero and the _Narada_ came from.”

Bones looked at Jim, eyes wide with surprise. “Uhura was right then?” Jim nodded. A look of horror crossed Bones’s face. “Does that mean we have _two_ Spocks here? What the hell did we do to deserve that?” 

Jim shook his head impatiently. “Listen. While I was on the planet, he told me some things. Things I haven’t told anyone else. He said that coming to this universe screwed things up here. That it messed up our timeline. He maintained that the universe – or whatever is out there – was working to put things right, and one of those things was to get us all on this ship, with me in command. So Bones?” He used his foot to nudge Bones in the leg. “Stop beating yourself up over this. Ambassador Spock said that needed to happen, and it wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been sent down to Delta Vega.”

A ridge appeared between Bones’s eyebrows. “What the hell is all that? Some kind of Vulcan mysticism, voodoo thing?”

Jim gave Bones a pointed look. “Bones. This is Spock. Well,” he said as he shrugged, “granted an older one from an alternate universe, but you know damn well that any ‘mysticism’ would be based on fact and science.” 

That seemed to make more of an impression, if he was reading his friend correctly, and Jim let him ponder on that thought. 

“Okay, Jim, fine. Say it was all some grand rewriting of a universal imbalance, but still. You can’t tell me you aren’t pissed at me,” Bones said, refusing to let the whole issue rest. “At least you should be.”

“Captain. Doctor. Where would you like me to put these?” questioned the yeoman at the door. 

Never in the history of mankind had there been a better timed interruption. 

Jim sprang to his feet and turned towards the young man, motioning him to the desk. “You can put them here. And thank you,” Jim added as the yeoman put the two trays, laden with various sandwiches and steaming cups of coffee, where he was directed. 

Before he could leave, Jim asked, “Yeoman Malik, could you bring another tray just like this to Mr. Scott? He’s down on Deck 20, Jefferies tube 20-G, repairing some conduits. He might not want to stop and eat, and if that is the case, tell him it’s sandwiches. If that doesn’t work, tell him it’s an order from me. Don’t leave until he finishes eating, okay?”

“Yes, Captain,” Yeoman Malik acknowledged before leaving the office. Jim’s stomach growled, protesting that he wasn’t eating yet, the noise loud and echoing through the room.

Bones gave Jim an _I told you so_ look. “What is it with you people? Don’t ya all know when to quit? Scotty is as bad as you are, Jim.”

“And when did you eat last? Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jim gloated as a sheepish look appeared on Bones’s face. “Physician, heal thy self.” 

Bones flipped his hand at Jim’s tray. “Oh, just shut up and go sit down and eat.” 

Smiling softly, Jim rounded the desk and pulled his tray over to the chair he had vacated earlier.

The two of them slowly devoured the pile of sandwiches on each of their trays in silence – both of them alone with their thoughts. He had steered Bones away from that touchy subject, but it seemed like his own mind refused to be distracted. 

Was he still pissed at Bones? 

No…not anymore, but when it happened? When those security crewmembers grabbed him and Bones didn’t try to help him, but instead just kept telling Jim that Spock was captain…? Yeah, Jim had been royally pissed. 

But now …? 

Jim felt something squeeze inside his chest. What lingered was something different. 

He had been so damn surprised, so damn grateful to Bones for sneaking him onto the ship. No one ever before had ever done something like that for him. He was used to people leaving him behind. His mom. Sam. His high school friends. And in a way, his dad. 

But not Bones. Never Bones. 

Bones had risked his career for him, and when he did that, for a brief, thrilling moment in time, Jim thought there wasn’t anything the two of them wouldn’t do for each other. 

Then, Bones had bailed just like the others. And that _hurt_. Like nothing else had ever hurt before. 

The thing was, Bones might not put up with his shit, but he was always, _always_ there when Jim needed him. To go to the bars with him. To tell him when he was being an ass. Hell, Bones had been at all three of his _Kobyashi Maru_ tests as his science officer, taking time out of his crazy schedule at Starfleet Medical. 

They had been joined at the hip for the past three years. Bones was his best friend, the only best friend that he ever really had. He _needed_ Bones.

Was this normal? Was this what you were supposed to feel for your best friend, this overpowering need?

Fuck. Jim grabbed his coffee cup and took a long drink, working hard not to let his hands show the tremble that resonated through him. Jim Kirk wasn’t supposed to _need_ anyone. What the hell was going on with him? 

He didn’t want to answer that question.

Looking up over the rim of his cup, Jim stole a glance at Bones to see if he had caught signs of the confusion raging through Jim. Instead, what he saw was the sadness, still weighing down that expressive face. His own turmoil dissipated at the sight. He needed to fix this.

Sighing, Jim put down his cup. “You know, it wasn’t _your_ fault. It was mine and Spock’s – mine for pushing things and Spock’s for reacting to them. You were just trying to play peacekeeper.” Bones opened his mouth as if he meant to argue, but Jim kept going, addressing what Bones had said before. “But, yeah, you were right. I was pissed at you before, but I’m not _now_.”

Jim paused. “Bones, look. If it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. I would’ve been stuck back there, grounded because of my arrogance, and mostly likely dead right now, crushed in the black hole that Nero would have made out of Earth as sure as he did with Vulcan.” He pointed to his friend as he continued, pouring everything he could into his words to convey his sincerity, “You, Bones. _You_ kept all that from happening with what you did for me. Hell, you risked your career for me, and I’ll never forget that. _Ever_.”

And he wouldn’t. He swallowed down the small lump, starting to form in his throat. He didn’t know what the hell his feelings were towards his best friend, but right now, he had to make them right. “So, are we good now?” He gave Bones a tentative smile. 

Bones nodded slowly as a small smile reflected Jim’s, his eyes starting to clear for the first time since this uncomfortable conversation had started. The cold spot in Jim’s chest started to warm. “Yeah, Jim. We’re good.” 

And they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word _hengrauggi_ came from the novelization of the movie: Foster, Alan Dean, (2009). _Star Trek_. New York, NY: Pocket Books, a division of Simon  & Schuster, Inc.
> 
> This is a completed story. I will be posting chapters every 1-2 days, depending on my schedule.


	4. Worries Go Down Better with Soup  (Fourth Dinner)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day after waking up in Starfleet Medical, and Jim already hates that he is stuck in this hospital bed. He hates being an invalid and feeling so damn weak. And it doesn’t help that he’s plagued by nightmares and worries that continue to hang over him, even when he is awake. That’s why he needs Bones’s company and calming presence this evening, when he can _finally_ have something to eat. Maybe this time Jim can be the brave one and force a much needed conversation between the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author’s note:** Boy, did I put my wonderful, kind, insightful and brilliant beta, Caitri, through her paces with this chapter. Everything you suggested and recommended made this so much better. I could go on for days, and it wouldn’t come close to expressing all my gratitude for your support. Not to sound redundant, but I have tinkered with this since, so all the mistakes are my own. 
> 
>  
> 
> This dinner takes place a day or so after Jim wakes up in Starfleet Medical at the end of _Star Trek into Darkness._.

_The pain was nothing like he had ever felt before. It burned down deep into his cells as he pulled himself up over the main conduit that lead to the core’s center. His mind screamed at his muscles, demanding and cajoling them to keep working, to not give up. He had to get to the top and realign the core, or the ship would fall to its death. Everyone, his whole crew would die. He pulled himself up the last rise to the apex._

_“Jim, my arm is stuck! I can’t get it out!” Bones’s panicked voice froze him to his spot._

_What? No, no, no!_

_This wasn’t right. Jim tried to grapple with the horrible scene before him. But there was his CMO, his friend, kneeling at the base of the lower half of the core component, his arm clearly trapped under the tilted unit. Jim almost crumpled at the sight, his own weakened body whimpering at the thought of his friend enduring the same pain._

_He had to save Bones. Maybe he wasn’t affected by the radiation around them. If Jim could get the unit back into its normal position, then Bones could get out of here. His mind refused to believe anything else._

_Grabbing onto the cables that were twisted around the main conduit, Jim stood, feet unsteady beneath him, his body giving up more and more with each passing moment._

_“Bones, hold on,” Jim pleaded as he reached up and seized a section of the upper core unit. If he could just get enough force, he could use his feet to shift the lower unit back into alignment, and that should release Bones’s arm._

_Hauling up what little strength he had left, he hung on the overhead bar and slammed his feet into the unit repeatedly. Each and every time, the force rebounded up his legs and added to the fire that was blazing on and below his skin. This had to work. He had to get this back in place, or Bones would die. That thought overrode the physical pain that coursed through him._

_Jim pulled his legs up to give one last hard kick to the core, and he felt a snap reverberate through his hands a half second before he was suddenly flying backwards into the air. Away from the core, away from Bones. The bar had broken off, succumbing to the weight that Jim had put on it, and he tumbled down over the conduits and cables. He had no more strength left in his ravaged body, no matter what his mind and will wanted. He couldn’t even make his muscles move his arms so that he could try to catch one of the cables and break his fall._

_He had failed. That truth cut through him, hurting him even more than the pounding impact of his body slamming into the wall at the bottom of the core containment area._

_He had failed and Bones was going to die._

_“Nooo.” The feeble cry tore his throat as the rest of his body lost the battle._

 

Jim jerked awake, his breath stuck in his throat, trapped between the nothingness of where he had been and where he was now. The fast-paced sound of the heart monitor behind him began to soothe the panic that had seized him. Finally, he could feel his breath, escaping his mouth in quick, shallow gasps, and his heart, pounding in his chest. 

He was alive. 

Adjusting to the semi-darkness around him, Jim glanced around the room, noticing the white, sterile walls that were reflecting the various colors of the biobed monitors behind him. He was in Starfleet Medical.

That meant his ship was saved. _Bones_ was saved. 

The man himself entered the room, and Jim felt relief flow over him. Bones closed the distance to Jim’s side, glancing briefly up at the biobed monitors. He slid his warm fingers to the inside of Jim’s wrist, trusting his own touch to tell him more than the computerized outputs. The feel of those fingers helped further quiet the fear that was beginning to retreat to the back of Jim’s mind. 

“Your heart rate is coming down now. You _had_ been sleeping,” Bones pointed out as he looked down on Jim, his eyes softening with understanding. “Did you have another bad dream?” 

Only every time he fell asleep. 

Jim considered brushing it off, but even _he_ could feel his pulse quicken again under Bones’s sensitive fingers. “Yeah,” he said, shrugging. 

Those perceptive hazel eyes locked onto his. “Well,” Bones said quietly after a moment, “that’s to be expected, considering what you went through. Sometime in the near future, though, we’re gonna need you to talk to someone about it.” Before Jim could voice his objection, Bones pulled his fingers away from Jim’s wrist and patted him gently on the back of his hand. “But not right now.” 

_Thank god._

“You slept right through dinnertime after all your company this afternoon,” Bones continued as he straightened the covers over Jim that were dislodged and twisted around Jim’s legs. 

“I did?” Jim asked, shifting his head. He peered out his windows to the darkened skyline of San Francisco. It was later than he thought. 

That afternoon, Scotty, Chekov and Sulu had visited for the first time since Jim had woken up the day before. Jim frowned. He remembered them leaving his room, but not much after that. God, it was disconcerting, sleeping away so much of his time. 

“Do you feel hungry?” Bones asked. 

Was he hungry? Jim placed his hand over his middle and concentrated on his internal sensations. “Yeah, I think I am,” he answered in surprise. 

His response made Bones smile for the first time since he entered Jim’s hospital room, and it lit up his face. A warm, funny glow inside of Jim answered back, and he knew it had _nothing_ to do with hunger. 

“That’s a good sign, Jim, but unfortunately, kid, I can only give you clear liquids. Your GI tract is still recovering, and we don’t want to push it.” Bones didn’t give Jim a chance to complain. Instead, he patted Jim on the arm and walked out the door, and Jim had to fight to keep from snatching Bones’s hand and begging him not to go. 

He closed his eyes. It had only been a dream. Bones was alive and well. He kept that mantra running through his mind as he did some deep breathing exercises. He didn’t need those stupid monitors behind him tattling on him again. 

Within a couple of minutes, Bones was back, carrying two trays of food, and Jim surreptitiously let out his breath. Bones set one tray on the side table and placed the other on the chair in the corner of the room. Calling out for the lights to be brought up to fifty percent, he returned to Jim’s side and arranged the bowls and cups on the tray, before elevating the head of Jim’s bed.

“How about sitting on the edge of the bed and eating?” Bones asked as he dropped the guard rail before reaching out to help Jim sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. 

The bed again? “How about sitting on the chair?” Jim countered.

“How about we just try this first and see how it goes,” Bones stated in no uncertain terms as he activated the button that positioned the tray table up and over Jim’s lap. He grabbed Jim’s tray and set it on the table. 

Jim had been sitting up earlier, when Scotty, Sulu and Chekov came, and Bones hadn’t been too happy with him when he had pushed it too long and had to be carried back into bed. In front of his crew. Jim still felt a wave of embarrassment. 

Conceding the battle, Jim sighed and looked over his dinner. Bones hadn’t lied. Jim pulled off the stasis covers on his bowl of broth and dish of gelatin, and he was amazed that even this poor fare was making his stomach growl. He grabbed the mug on the tray and took a big sip, grimacing when the flavor of the herbal tea hit his palate. Where was his beloved coffee?

“Coffee’s too hard on your digestive tract,” Bones said, answering Jim’s unspoken question. “But you can have some white grape juice.” Bones pointed out the other glass on the tray before he pulled the chair across the room and closer to Jim’s bedside. “Hope you don’t mind if you have some company for dinner.” 

Yes, thank God. “I’d like that,” Jim said, nodding as he kept his neediness from reaching his voice.

Bones carefully picked up his tray and sat down on the chair, lifting the cover on his own bowl. Jim took in the aroma of vegetable soup, and his stomach growled in protest. At least Bones wasn’t having a hamburger and fries. That would have been torture. 

The two of them quietly sipped their soup as Bones watched how much Jim was consuming. When Jim’s spoon started to still for longer moments between mouthfuls, Bones asked, “Getting full?”

Jim laid down his spoon, his arms starting to feel heavy. “Yeah,” he answered. How the hell could someone get so worn out from just eating? 

Bones got up and transferred his bowl to Jim’s tray, sliding his tray underneath Jim’s. “There’s nothing to worry about, Jim. You’ll find that your consumption will increase as your stomach continues to heal.” He pressed a button on the bed’s control panel, and within seconds, a nurse came into the room. Jim tried to sit up a little straighter, but instead, his body sagged wearily to the side. “Here, Gloria. Can you take this for us?”

“Certainly, Dr. McCoy.” She grabbed the two trays before asking, “Is there anything else?”

“No, that’ll be it. I’ll take care of Captain Kirk,” Bones answered before turning back to Jim and pushing the button that retracted the table back to its original spot. Jim watched a grin peek out on the nurse’s face at the doctor’s words. Jim felt the blush of embarrassment across his cheeks as she witnessed his state of weakness. He was relieved when she finally left the room. 

Bones took one look at Jim and said, “We’ll try sitting in the chair tomorrow. Let’s get you back into bed.” He slipped one of his arms behind Jim’s shoulders and used the other to help Jim lift his legs up to the mattress, settling Jim back unto his pillows. He returned the guard rail to its up position. “Do you want the head of the bed up, or would you like to lie back down?”

God, he was tired, but how the fuck was he going to gain any strength if he couldn’t keep awake for even an hour. He _hated_ lying here like an invalid, having to have people do things for him. Hell, Gloria _laughed_ at him. He didn’t know what was worse, that or the pity he saw on his crew’s faces this afternoon. Bones kept telling him to have patience. That he would get stronger... Shit. Bones was waiting for his answer.

“I’d like to try and sit up for a while.” Jim paused for a moment and then gave into the swirling fears in his mind. “Bones, am I really getting any better?”

Bones’s brow furrowed, his eyes taking in everything Jim’s face wasn’t hiding: his exhaustion, his worries … his shame. 

“Of course you are, Jim. Ya just have to give it time and have some patience. I know that’s hard for you, but you just woke up yesterday, for God’s sake. It’s a miracle that you’re alive…” Bones’s eyes widened in realization, and he looked away. He grabbed the covers and yanked them up over Jim’s legs, tucking them around Jim’s waist. “Let’s fluff up those pillows, too,” Bones said in a tight, funny voice as he slid his hand behind Jim and helped him lean forward. 

What the hell was that all about? 

Jim twisted and looked at his friend. A wealth of pain was displayed all over Bones’s face, as if there was too much to hold back, and Jim felt his breath leave his chest. 

“What’s wrong?” Jim asked, reaching over and stilling Bones’s hand that was punching the pillow behind his back. 

Bones’s detached medical persona slammed back down as he pulled his hand away. “It’s nothin’, Jim.” Turning, he grabbed a scanner from a drawer in the bedside table and started to wave it over Jim’s head and chest. 

Nothing? He watched as Bones made the circuit around his head, keeping his attention on the monitors behind him. That was bullshit. 

Bones was hurting, and when Bones hurt, Jim had to fix it.

Jim turned in bed, drawing his leg over so that he could face Bones. His concern for his friend helped him ignore his body’s protest. 

He captured Bones’s hand, stilling the scan. “C’mon,” he implored his friend, giving him an encouraging shake. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

Bones refused to meet his eyes, keeping them trained on the monitor. “Well, you’ll be happy to hear that your digestive tract seems to be handling the food you ate. Another clear liquid meal and we’ll be able to bump you up to full liquids. How does some vanilla pudding sound, Jim?” 

“Bones.” 

Ignoring him, Bones transferred the scanner to his free hand and continued his examination. 

Jim let out a frustrated sigh. God, his friend was a stubborn cuss. Jim reached up with his other hand and plucked the scanner out of Bones’s and tucked it under his hip.

“Goddamn it, Jim,” Bones snapped as he held out his palm. “What are you? A fuckin’ two-year old? Now, give it here.” 

Anger was always Bones’s favorite mask by which to hide his other emotions, but it failed to hide that something was tormenting his friend. Jim could see it in the slight trembling of the hand Bones was holding out. 

Bones’s hands never, _ever_ trembled. Not when he was pissed as hell trying to do field medicine in the clusterfuck of an away mission. Not when Jim’s stupidity had gotten him hurt. Not even in the aftermath of all the shit that went down after the _Narada_. 

This was something way more. 

“You know, I could order you,” Jim reminded him, taking another tactic. 

Bones snapped his eyes back to Jim and glared. “You’re on medical leave. I outrank you right now.” 

“I know people in high places. I can get them to order you.” 

Bones called Jim’s bluff. “Just try it.” 

Breaking eye contact, Jim sighed in resignation. Yeah, ordering Bones to talk. That would really work. Alcohol was the method Jim normally used to loosen Bones’s tongue. Where was that friendly flask when he needed it? 

Jim tried one more time, laying his cards out on the table. “Bones, please,” he pleaded, softening his expression in the face of Bones’s glare, “talk to me. You can’t tell me there isn’t something bothering you, because I can see it.”

“Pot meet kettle,” Bones shot back, his eyebrow raised. “You first.” 

Jim pulled back, the heart monitors betraying him again with an increase in sound. Jim had been refusing to discuss what happened in his dreams since he woke up from the first one. It was just too raw, too soon. And frankly, he was afraid of what it would reveal. He pursed his lips as he raised his eyes back up to the hazel ones watching him closely. 

One of them would have to break this deadlock and go first, and from the looks of the jaw cased in steel, Bones wasn’t planning on doing that anytime soon. God, he was a stubborn, pig-headed … wonderful, beautiful best friend, who always placed everyone else before himself. 

Okay, if someone had to go first, so be it. 

“I keep having this dream,” Jim mumbled, releasing Bones’s wrist and sagging sideways onto his mattress. “And you’re in it.” 

From the way Bones’s mouth dropped, he hadn’t expected Jim to fold. He froze, and it was like his whole body paused on the precipice of Jim’s words. When Jim didn’t continue, he gathered himself and helped Jim turn more comfortably onto his back, pulling the covers over him, before softly asking, “Is this the bad dream you keep having?”

Dropping his eyes, Jim fiddled with the edge of the blanket. This was harder than he thought. “Yeah,” he admitted, forcing himself to continue, even though he felt so damn vulnerable, lying in his stupid hospital bed. “I’m in the core generation complex and you’re there, trapped under the core’s center.”

Bones maintained his supportive silence as Jim struggled to go on, his words getting caught behind the thickening in his throat. Bones turned and hooked his chair, pulling it right up to the side of the bed, and sat down. 

His whole demeanor changed, and it was his friend Bones and not his CMO who prompted, “What happens in the rest of the dream, Jim?”

He needed to do this, for himself as much as for his friend, so Jim took a deep breath and told him.

When Jim finished, his heart was beating fast, not from the images that he relayed, but the fact that everything was out there for Bones to see. He coughed, trying to clear his throat, his embarrassment creeping up his neck in a heated blush. 

“Computer. Mute heart monitor,” Bones said, and the room grew silent as Jim tried to calm himself. 

Standing, Bones grabbed Jim’s water glass and handed it to him, gripping his shoulder in support as Jim took a cooling drink. The comfort of that touch helped to ease the turmoil churning inside of him. Jim handed the glass back to Bones, who set it aside before returning to his seat.

His steady and reassuring eyes never left Jim’s. “I know you know this, but I think it’s worth repeatin’. It was just a dream. It didn’t happen that way. You saved the ship, Jim. You saved the crew.”

“Yeah, I know.” But Bones missed the whole point. He almost lost Bones. More than once on that fucked up mission. He gave Bones a wry smile. “I suppose I have a few things I need to work through, don’t I?”

Bones smiled back at him, his pride in Jim and his relief shining in those hazel eyes. “Yeah, you do. I’ll set something up. I have a colleague who has a background with near-death experiences and PTSD, but Jim, you’ve already taken a big step today.” He leaned forward and squeezed Jim’s hand. 

Jim latched onto his hand, turning it so that he could grasp it firmly, feeling its warmth sink down into his. “Yeah, I did.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Now it’s your turn, Bones. What’s going on with you?” 

Bones visibly recoiled and tried to pull away. “It’s nothin’,” he said gruffly as his eyes dropped away from Jim’s.

Jim held on tight. “It’s not nothing. C’mon. I spilled. Don’t let me be the only brave one here.” 

Time stretched out between them. Jim wasn’t a counselor or a psychologist, but he was well aware of the power of silences. He watched as Bones ran his other hand through his hair, causing the lock in front to fall down over his forehead. When Bones’s hand dropped into his lap with a defeated flop, Jim squeezed the other one gently before letting it go. 

“You’re able to wake up from your nightmare. I had to live mine.” 

Bones sat there, staring at his lap, so Jim prompted him, “What do you mean?”

Bones looked up, naked and haunted emotion burning in his eyes. “Jim, when I opened that body bag and saw you there…” His words seemed to choke him, and he coughed to clear his throat. “I couldn’t believe it. I swear that a huge part of me stopped livin’ right there. I couldn’t do anything.” 

He watched as Bones’s eyes filled, and he had to blink away his own tears at the pain that was pouring off his friend. Bones struggled to continue, his voice soft and wretched, “All I could think of was how was I gonna keep the rest of me goin’ without you around.” Bones’s face twisted, and he hid his face behind his hand. 

Oh, god. For weeks, Bones had been holding all of this in. Like always, Bones had been forced to push aside his own feelings during the crisis, leaving him little or no time to process what he personally had gone through in the mad dash to bring Jim back to life. 

“Oh, Bones,” he whispered softly to himself. He had to make this right for Bones. Jim reached over and touched his fingers to the side of Bones’s bowed head. 

The contact made Bones start, and he turned his head away, embarrassed, wiping under his eyes and running a knuckle under his nose, before looking back to Jim. He huffed out a ragged breath. “Sorry, I don’t know where that all came from.”

“You were due,” Jim said quietly, and he smiled when Bones met his eyes. “I think this bears repeating, too. You _saved_ me, Bones. I’m alive because of _you_.”

“Oh, sure _now_ you admit I had a part in it.” 

Jim saw Bones’s watery quip for what it was. The old Jim Kirk would have let him brush this aside. Hell, that Jim would’ve had the broom in his hand, sweeping the heavy conversation completely away. 

But he was different now. Now, he realized how precious each moment of life was, and he felt something swell up inside of him. 

This man in front of him meant the world to him, and Jim wasn’t going to let another second pass without letting him know that. 

“Thank you for saving my life, Bones,” Jim said, complete sincerity in his voice. “You were there for me – _again_ – and I don’t know how I could ever repay you for what you did. For what you always do for me.” 

Bones’s eyes darted down to Jim’s mouth as he inhaled a ragged breath, and for a beat of Jim’s heart, there was a look of such want in those hazel eyes before they returned back up to Jim’s. Something like hope surged in Jim’s chest, answering back. 

After taking official command of the _Enterprise_ , it hadn’t taken very long for Jim to realize what Bones meant to him. All it took was that time on Mu Herculis III where it had been Bones who had gotten hurt, bitten by an indigenous reptile, and their standard antidotes didn’t work. Jim had never begged a planetary leader for something like he did for that local medicine. He would have promised just about… Oh, hell. Who was he kidding? He would have promised _anything_ to save Bones. 

That’s when he knew he cared deeply for this man. Way deeper than just his best friend. 

But he hadn’t seen any sign that Bones had similar feelings for him. 

It had been hard. He had worked to hide it, mostly behind casual hookups with women and his famous reputation. He tried to find something or someone to distract him, but it never worked. Not even two Caitains. He wanted Bones, but he had resigned himself to just being his lifelong friend. 

But now, Jim couldn’t hold back the big smile that broke out over his face. It was the first time he had seen any indication Bones might feel something for him. The new Jim Kirk wasn’t going to waste this chance. 

He pulled Bones closer. “Bones,” he said.

Jim could see disbelief on Bones’s face. “Jim?” he questioned as he moved back as far as Jim’s hand would let him. 

Maybe he did too good of a job hiding his feelings from Bones. Jim frowned. Maybe he should just tell Bones how he felt. But knowing his Bones, a simple declaration wouldn’t get through that thick skull of his. 

Well, he was laying things on the line. Might as well put it all out there. 

Jim stroked his thumb over Bones’s jaw. “Did you ever wonder why you weren’t called down to Engineering that day along with Spock?” 

Bones froze. He knew what day Jim was talking about. “Yeah, the thought had crossed my mind.” 

Jim bit his lip, knowing that his answer was going to initially hurt his friend. “It’s because I told Scotty not to call you.”

“Wha…?” Bones was unable to hide his hurt. “Why did you tell him that?”

Jim looked straight into Bones’s eyes, letting him see what Jim was feeling that day. “Because I knew if I saw you, I couldn’t handle it.” Tears gathered in his eyes. “It would hurt too much, knowing I wouldn’t have the time I wanted with you.” He tugged gently on Bones, prompting him get to his feet. “I had this wishful plan – a fantasy – and now that I’ve gotten this incredible chance because of you, I’m not going to blow it this time.” 

Bones grew still. He asked softly, “Plan? What plan?”

Jim drew Bones’s face down to him. “This,” Jim whispered, and then he kissed him. 

For a first kiss, it was perfect, despite their dry lips and Bones having to lean over Jim’s hospital bed. The two of them took their time, gently exploring each other. They broke apart with a soft sound. 

“I never thought you felt the same way, Bones,” Jim confessed. 

Bones gave him an incredulous look. “Are you kiddin’? Hell, the whole damn nursing staff here has figured it out. They won’t keep their damn smirks to themselves whenever I’m in here, taking care of you. I thought for sure one of them was gonna spill the beans.”

So that’s what Gloria’s smile was all about. She had been smiling at Bones’s mother-henning and not at the “great Captain Kirk” being an invalid. 

Jim licked his lips and looked up into those wonderful hazel eyes that had watched over him. “When I get out of here, do you think you could have dinner with me?”

Bones smiled as he reached down and caressed the side of Jim’s jaw with his palm. “What do you think we did tonight?”

Jim shot him an exasperated look. “No, Bones. Do you want to have _dinner_ with me?”

“Like a date?” Bones’s smile grew bigger. 

“Yeah.”

“Sounds good to me, Jim. But in the meantime, whaddya say if I have dinner here with you every night?”

“Are you gonna bring that pudding?” 

“Yeah, I can bring pudding. I might even bring some sherbert.” 

Hey, he was on a roll. “I don’t suppose you could bring me a burger and fries, too?”

Rather than answering, Bones distracted him with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from a Jewish proverb. 
> 
>  
> 
> This is a completed story. I will be posting chapters every 1-2 days. 
> 
> I want to take this time to thank everyone for their kind words and kudos. It warms my heart that you are reading and hopefully enjoying this story. Our boys have hit a turning point, and the next two chapters will be more light-hearted than the last two.


	5. The Way to a Man's Heart is Through His Stomach  (Fifth Dinner)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones isn’t the most amiable person, _especially_ after a bad day in Medbay. Luckily, Jim knows exactly how to get him open to new possibilities. How else would Jim get Bones to do things?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author’s Note:** This bears repeating and repeating. Thank yous, kudos, accolades, laurels, and massive piles of riches need to be given to Caitri for her tireless work on this story. You are the best! And as before – let’s all say it together now – I’ve tinkered with this, so all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> This dinner occurs a year or so after _Star Trek into Darkness_.

The door to Jim’s quarters swished open, and Bones stomped through them. 

“Shower,” Bones grumbled as he yanked off his blue shirt, making his way across Jim’s quarters without stopping to give Jim his standard hello kiss. 

Oops. It had been one of _those_ days.

Placing his book on his lap, Jim motioned belatedly to his bathroom. “Help yourself.” He listened to Bones’s boots, hitting the bedroom floor with a loud thump. Even _that_ sounded disgusted. He raised his voice so that Bones could hear him over the slamming of the drawers as Bones searched for some clothes. “You know, sometimes I think the only reason why you come here is so that you can use my water shower.” 

“What? It took this long for your genius-level IQ to figure that one out?” Bones snarked back. 

Jim didn’t rein in his big smile, even though Bones couldn’t see it. “Why do you think I made Scotty install one in the refit?” Bones’s rude sound was his only response before Jim heard the shower turn on. 

Jim sprang up from his seat and made his way quietly out the door into the corridor. He flipped open his communicator. “Kirk to Yeoman Malik.”

“Malik here, Captain.” 

“You can bring it to my quarters now.”

“On my way, sir.” 

Fifteen minutes later, Jim had everything set up and ready. He waited anxiously, sitting on the couch, pretending to read his book. 

Bones called out from the bedroom, “Jim, just go on to the Mess Hall.” He walked out wearing an old grey t-shirt, a pair of threadbare sweat pants and nothing on his feet – his standard “I’m staying in and drinking bourbon” clothes. A towel was over his face as he swiftly dried his hair. 

It really _had_ been a bad day. 

“Just bring me back something,” Bones said. He pulled the towel away from his head and took in the sight of the table. A small smile – albeit weary – came over his face. 

Smiling smugly, Jim placed his book carefully down on the cushion and stood. “Already did.”

Bones rolled his eyes, but appreciation still turned up the corners of his lips. He balled up the towel and threw it in the direction of Jim’s bedroom.

“You know you’re just gonna have to pick that up later,” Jim warned. 

Bones brushed the comment off and made his way to the table, pulling the stasis cover off the plate at his spot. He froze, the cover hanging precariously from his long fingers for a second, before he dropped it back down. Slowly, he turned to Jim, narrowing his eyes. “Which one of those mishaps in Engineering today were you and Scotty responsible for?” 

“What?” Jim frowned, confused. “None of them.”

“Uh huh.” Disbelief hung in the air.

“I wasn’t anywhere near Engineering today,” Jim said. 

“That still doesn’t mean you weren’t responsible, considering some of the hair-brained ideas the two of you come up with,” Bones said, raising his eyebrow. 

The man had a point.

“Well, not this time.” Jim saw the skeptical look on his friend’s face. “Really.” He motioned for Bones to take his seat. Bones ignored him and stood his ground. 

“All righty then. Who’d you piss off and when am I going to hear about it?”

“No one.” Jim sighed. Wait. He stopped and searched his memory before continuing, “Well, no one that I’m aware of.” 

“That I can believe.”

“Hey,” Jim complained. This was getting ridiculous. “Can’t we just have a nice dinner together by ourselves for once instead of going to the Mess Hall?” 

“No,” Bones answered, bringing his hands up to settle on his hips. “Whaddya want?”

Now Bones was getting warmer. 

“What makes you think I want something?” Jim asked, evading the question. 

Bones pointed to the food and then brought up his finger. “You start breakin’ out all my favorite foods whenever, one: you’ve blown somethin’ up, causing me to have a shitty day at work like I had today.” A second finger came up. “Two: you need to tell me something you think I’m not gonna be too happy about. Or –“ A third one joined the other two. “Three: you want somethin’ you think I’m gonna say no to.” 

Damn. That was the problem of being in love with your best friend. 

Jim motioned to the table. “How about we eat before the food gets cold?”

Bones crossed his arms as he raised his eyebrow back up. “How about you start talkin’, kid.” 

Jim walked over to Bones and gave him a gentle push on his shoulders. “Just sit down and have something to eat. You know you’re always grumpy when your blood sugar is bottoming out.” Bones stood like an immobile statue. “We have peach pie,” Jim sing-songed. 

Finally, Bones moved, taking his seat. 

Jim took his spot, removing the cover off his plate of food, before grabbing his fork and knife. He sliced a chunk off his medium-rare steak and brought it to his mouth, savoring the taste as he chewed. “Damn, this is good.” He tore back in the food, hoping his enthusiastic response would motive Bones. He smiled to himself when he saw Bones start to eat. The man never could resist a good steak and baked potato with the fixings. 

Jim silently ate, letting the magic of a good meal do its trick. Bones devoured the food on his plate like a man who hadn’t eaten all day. When he saw Bones ease comfortably back into his chair, soaking up some of the juices on his almost empty plate with one of the hot-buttered rolls they were sharing, it felt safe to break the silence.

“Tough day, huh?” Jim decided to start with the easiest topic.

Bones snorted sarcastically. “You might say that.” He popped the piece of bread in his mouth. 

Jim frowned as he reached for another roll. “I didn’t get any report of a major incident in Engineering. What happened?” He slathered butter all over it before stuffing it into his mouth while Bones was intent on finishing the food on his plate. 

“Oh, just your typical things that happen with that bunch of clodhoppers that masquerade as engineers.” Bones cut his steak into the final two bite-sized pieces. “Someone got it in their damn fool head to tweak some output variable and didn’t take into account the pressure value on a couple secondary components. Spewed corrosive coolant on a number of panels, so we got a lot of chemical burns on hands and arms, mostly minor.” He placed one of the pieces in his mouth and hummed with satisfaction as he chewed.

From his own experience, Jim knew that treatment of chemical burns had a rigorous protocol to follow, one that took a fair amount of time. “How many crewmen were affected?”

“Seventeen.” Jim felt his eyebrows rise as he watched Bones swirl the last bite of steak through the remaining juice on his plate. 

“Did you have to call Geoffrey back in?” No way would Bones be here right now if he hadn’t gotten help.

“Yeah, and Christine’s gonna have my balls because this was the only day off they had together in the next two weeks.” 

Jim’s heart lurched. Bones had just handed him the perfect segue. It was now or never.

“Maybe we can work something out that can save those wonderful balls – which, by the way, I own – and make Christine happy,” Jim said, trying to affect a nonchalant manner. Bones rolled his eyes before loading up his fork with potato. Jim let that just sit in the air for a while. “How are they getting along in Geoffrey’s quarters?” 

“Christine says it’s a mite snug, but they’re in their honeymoon stage. Doubt they’re getting out of bed much these days other than to cover their shifts.”

“Maybe we could find them bigger quarters.”

Bones looked skeptical. “Where, Jim? Officers’ quarters are some of the biggest ones on the ship.”

“Well, there’s always the CMO’s quarters. They’re bigger.”

Bones’s fork stilled on the way to his mouth, and he looked over at Jim, his arm settling down to rest on the edge of the table. “Is this your way of tellin’ me that I’m getting a demotion, or is it something else?” 

“You could always move in here. That would free up the CMO’s quarters for the two of them, and it would keep your two best crewmembers happy.” Jim tried to give Bones his most charming smile as his stomach churned. 

Bones’s fork clinked loudly as it dropped on the plate. Guarded hazel eyes looked at Jim. “What are you sayin’, Jim?”

All pretenses fell away. “What I’m saying is, move in with me, Bones.” Jim quickly presented his case. “You stay here nine times out of ten, and the one night you don’t, it’s usually because of some emergency in Sick Bay.” 

“Which most of the time involves _you_.”

“See? We sleep together ten nights out of ten.” Jim rushed on while he could. “We basically eat all our meals together. Half of my drawers and closet space have your stuff in it.” He waved his arm towards the bathroom. “Hell, you don’t even shower in your quarters any more. It’s my shower that you use. You’re here more than you’re not.”

“You telling me that I’m overstaying my welcome?” The small upturn of his lips negated the bite of the words. 

Jim shook his head slowly, looking imploringly at his friend and lover as his heart continued pounding away in his chest. “You know that’s not true.” He gathered his courage and continued, “I can’t sleep at night unless you’re wrapped around me. I like seeing your grumpy face first thing in the morning. Hell, I even like tripping over your damn wet towels that you leave all over the place. Bones, I want you to move in with me…” He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Be with me.”

A big smile broke out over Bones’s face. “Sort of thought I already was, darlin’.”

Jim gave him an exasperated look. “I mean officially. Giving up your quarters and moving all your stuff and all that.” 

Bones leaned forward and placed his hand over Jim’s, working to loosen the fist Jim hadn’t realized he made. “Jim, where’s all this coming from? I didn’t peg you as the type to need the whole living together thing. I thought you liked your space.” 

Jim huffed out a breath. “Remember that mission last month to Kressari VI when that warring tribe held me hostage?” 

Bones’s face took on a pained look. “We didn’t think we’d get you back.”

Now it was Jim’s turn to lend physical comfort, and he squeezed the hand held in his. “When I was caged up in that cave, all I could think about was coming back to you.” He looked deeply into those favorite eyes of his. “I do like my space, Bones, but I realized then that I _need_ to come home to you.” 

The look on Bones’s face melted Jim, and he used his grip on Bones’s hand to pull him over for a kiss. After their lips parted, Jim asked softly, “So, whaddya say, Bones?”

Bones’s eyes twinkled. “You had that whole spiel written out in your head, didn’t you?”

“Shut up. I did not.” He totally did. “Now, answer the damn question.”

“Yes, you damn fool,” Bones said as he sat back in his chair. “Are you happy now?”

Relief, elation and something else flooded him, and Jim pushed back his chair and stood up, reaching his hand out for Bones. Bones rolled his eyes and ignored it. 

“Forget it. You promised me peach pie, and I haven’t had it yet.” Bones pulled the pie over to his plate and slipped the biggest piece onto it. 

Jim didn’t want to wait any longer. He wiggled his fingers. “C’mon, Bones. Let’s go christen the bed.” 

“Jim, that bed has already been ‘christened’ more times than I can count.” He grabbed his fork and cut into the pie. “I don’t get pie every day.”

Jim couldn’t contain his smile as he leaned over to whisper in Bones’s ear. “Yeah, but we have extra whip cream.” 

Those must have been the magic words. Bones shot out of his chair, his fork dropping loudly against his plate, and grabbed Jim’s hand. Jim barely had time to snatch the bowl of whipped cream before Bones pulled him into their bedroom, pie forgotten on the table. 

Oh, well. Dessert was always better in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a completed fic. I will be posting the remaining chapter tomorrow. 
> 
>  
> 
> It has warmed my heart, reading the comments and seeing the kudos you have left for this story. I am so glad that you've enjoyed it. Thank you for taking the time to leave kudos and comments. They are greatly appreciated!


	6. Breakfast at Tiffany's   ( + One Breakfast)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim had everything he could desire. He and Bones loved each other. They lived together. But, like always, Jim wanted more. Unfortunately, Bones had made his feelings about marriage quite clear. But then again, when did Jim let something like _that_ stop him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author’s Note:** And with this final chapter, I need to take this last opportunity to acknowledge and thank to my fabulous beta, Caitri. With your support, suggestions and guidance, you made this fic so much better. Thank you so very much. As before, I have tinkered with this, so all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> This chapter occurs four years after _Star Trek into Darkness_.

Releasing a tired exhale, Jim signed off on the weekly engineering report that Spock had sent him. He grabbed the coffee cup in front of him, queuing up the next report on his PADD, before taking a long-needed sip of the dark liquid. Three cups of coffee consumed and he still had problems focusing his eyes.

Well, at least being up this early gave him the opportunity of getting some of his reports read before Spock started nagging him – again. That is, if he could keep his eyes open much longer.

It had been a late night, and Jim blamed the newly appointed Federation ambassador that they had transported to Draygo II. They had to endure hours at the final banquet, listening to the “pompous ass,” as Bones called him, drone on and on. They didn’t get back to their quarters until well after 03:00 ship’s time. 

Which just screwed up all of Jim’s carefully laid out plans. So now here he sat, trying to keep awake, while he waited for Bones to finally wake up.

Jim yawned, his jaw cracking in the process. He was too damn tired for this. He was going to end up missing something in one of these reports if he didn’t leave them for later. He didn’t need Spock giving him “The Eyebrow.” He laid the PADD on the table. 

He let his eyes wander around the room, taking in their personal belongings and the pictures sitting on the different surfaces of their living area. The picture of Jo and him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, smiling big and bright, brought a smile to his own face. The beautiful picture of the red, purple and orange sunset over the teal waters on Chi Ceti IV had been taken by Bones when they were on a well-needed shore leave. The PADDs stacked by Bones’s favorite chair were all the journals he would read at nights while Jim tackled his mountain of reports. The vibrant blue and gold blanket on the back of their couch was one that Bones’s mother made for them. It got a lot of use those nights they snuggled together.

Everywhere Jim looked, he saw evidence of his life with Bones. And now he wanted more. Like always.

Jim drained his cup and reached for the pot in front of him, filling it back up to the rim. He was either going to have to send for another pot from the galley or reconsider his plans if Bones didn’t wake up soon. Maybe he should just go back to bed instead and wait for the next time their schedules would coincide with the same day off. 

He shook his head. No, he needed to stick with his plan. This was their only corresponding day off for the next two schedules. There was no way in hell he could pull rank and get the schedules changed without alerting Bones. Not when “Suspicious” was Bones’s middle name. 

He pulled out his communicator. Looked like he was going to need Yeoman Malik to bring him another pot of coffee while he waited for Sleeping Beauty to raise his grumpy head. 

A familiar grumble from the bedroom took the decision out of Jim’s hands, and he put the communicator back on the table as his heart started to pound. He took a calming breath and cleared his face. It was now or never. 

Bones stumbled out into the living area, his hair standing up on one side while the other side was mashed down to his head. Using one hand to hike his black sleep pants back up over his hips, he used the other to rub his eyes. He looked like a big, sleepy kid, having to wake up for school. 

“Whaddya doin’ up already, Jim?” Bones mumbled. “It’s our damn day off. I thought we were sleepin’ in.” 

Yep. This was his Bones. The man he loved.

Jim grabbed the coffee pot from the tray sitting on the table in front of him and poured the remaining coffee into the second cup. “Come have a cup of coffee with me.”

Bones might not be fully awake, but his glare was. He pointed back to their sleeping area. “I don’t want a damn cup of coffee. I want to be in that bed curled around you, sleeping until nobody or nothing but myself wakes me back up. Now come back to bed already.” He muttered something unintelligible as he turned, shuffling back to the bedroom. 

“Please, Bones?” 

Bones stopped. His shoulders slumped in resignation. “Damn it, Jim.” Bones never could turn Jim down when he pleaded. Sighing, Bones swung back and stumbled to the table, taking his normal seat, propping his sleepy head in his hand. “This better be good.” A big yawn escaped as he reached forward to get his cup. 

Jim slid something else into Bones’s hand. 

Bones froze as he stared at the item. “What the hell is this?” 

“What it looks like,” Jim said softly. “Open it.” 

At first, Jim didn’t think Bones would do it, but he slowly opened the tiny box, revealing the brushed platinum and beveled ring inside. He stared at it for several long seconds before bringing his hazel eyes back up to Jim’s. For a brief moment, Jim considered getting down on one knee, but he didn’t want to push his luck. Bones wasn’t at his best this time of day. 

“Will you marry me?” 

“Why?” Bones asked, with a growl in his voice. Jim laughed at that everyday, grouchy response, and with it, the anxiety that had surrounded Jim eased. Now _this_ he could handle. 

“Because I love that surly attitude of yours before you get your first cup of coffee.”

“Not helping, Jim,” Bones muttered.

Okay. Jim reached across the table and laid his hand over Bones’s. “Because I love seeing that bed-head hair of yours in the morning, knowing that I had something to do with it. Hell, Bones, my day doesn’t start out right until I can hear those grumpy complaints of yours, wondering what examples of stupidity lie ahead of you for the day – “

“And the biggest one usually meets me for breakfast every morning,” Bones grumbled crossly. But Jim wasn’t fooled. He could see the beginnings of a small smile fighting at the corners of Bones’s mouth.

Jim continued, raising his voice to keep Bones from interrupting him. “We both know that you’d move heaven and earth to help anyone of the crew." Jim squeezed the warm hand under his. “I love being able to wake up with you in the mornings. I love that you are there to steal the covers in the middle of the night.” Jim glared briefly at him when Bones snorted his objection. “I love getting bitched at for not making the bed in the mornings. “

Jim took a deep breath. Now was the time to get serious. “Bones, we have been living together for three years. There hasn’t been any romance hiding any of our flaws. They’ve been hanging out in the open like underwear on a clothes line, like you’d say. From the beginning you knew that I was impulsive…”

“Foolhardy,” Bones amended.

Jim laughed in surprise. “That sometimes I’m overconfident…”

“I think you mean full of yourself.”

“The point is we both have flaws, and we have never hidden them from each other. Bones, I love _all_ those flaws, and I want to have them for the rest of my days. I want them to be ours … legally. Forever.” 

Bones bit his bottom lip to hide the smile that was begging to break out over that face. The damn asshole was working hard to keep up his grumpy façade. They sat looking at each other, stubbornly trying to wait the other one out.

Jim was the one who broke first. “Are you going to take the ring or not?” He motioned to the box in Bones’s hand.

“Why am I the only one who has to wear a ring?”

“I got one for me, too.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one that picked it out for you?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake, Bones.” He grabbed Bones’s cup and pushed it in front of him. “Drink your damn coffee so that you can say yes!”

“How do you know I’ll say –“ 

Leaning over, Jim grabbed the front of Bones’s t-shirt, pulling him up and out of his chair, and kissed him with all the love – and frustration – that he was feeling. 

Bones’s kiss gave Jim his needed answer, loud and clear, while their breakfast sat forgotten on the table – for a very long time. 

Who needed breakfast anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it, the final chapter. I hope that you’ve enjoyed reading Jim and Bones’s little journey from the time their friendship was forged all the way up to their engagement. The idea for a story, centering on meals with the two of them, blossomed a couple of years ago. I worked on it here and there, so it’s with a sense of accomplishment that it’s finally posted. 
> 
> I want to thank _all of you_ , who took time to read my story, and give special thanks for those of you who left kudos and comments. I appreciate getting your thoughts. It means a lot to me.


End file.
